How can we not talk about family (When family is all we've got)
by DaddyDecember
Summary: A rock thrown into a pool creates ripples, yet life inside rolls on. Samuel Witwickly is left to raise his six-year-old sister at age thirteen after the death of his parents. The person the Autobots meet is completely different. Drabbles. Short Chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Life changes quickly. A sudden decision for a late-night dinner, a drunk driver and a slippery road. A situation that changes everything yet nothing at once.

He's still the same boy he was the other week in science class: a nerd with a best friend named Miles that joked around and played with his baby sister. He's still the son of Ron and Judy Witwickly with a little sister named Elizabeth that is six years old.

He's thirteen years old and his parents are _dead_.

The rain pelts against the ground. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the grass grew soft.

He doesn't move, staring at the gravestone with numbness that isn't caused by the cold but by something he can't quite describe.

Cars drive by, splashing puddles. The wind whistles and howls and petals fall from the trees in the harsh winds.

Samuel Witwicky at age thirteen is in charge of his six-year-old sister. The only remaining family he has left.

A bird screeches overhead causing a murder of crows to scatter from the trees.

He knows what happens to foster kids, Miles had told him when he asked. They get moved around, bounced to different caretakers and places. Sometimes siblings are separated and don't find each other again.

Thunder and lightning crackle in the sky. The winds shift in speed and a small petal swirls in the air.

Samuel, not _Sam_, or _Sammy_ ever again, he needs to be grown-up, mature. He needs to make sure they can't take his little sister away. She's all he has left and if she leaves too, Samuel thinks he might just shatter into a million pieces.

The petal weaves through the air before stopping on top of the shared stone.

Samuel Witwicky is thirteen years old and his parents are dead.

Life moves on.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry Mr. Witwicky, but we can't hire you," the man says.

Samuel smiles, even if it feels too large, too wide, too _fake_. And he nods to show he understands even though all he wants to do is bash the man's head against his desk a few million times.

"It's fine, Mr Muir. Thank you for seeing me anyway." He bears it and stands up, shook the man's hand and lets himself be led away.

He sees some of the workers give him pitying looks and it just makes him _angry_ in a way he's never been before. Why are they looking at him like that? He's _fine_!

He smiles at them, a little too much teeth and malice and they turn away quickly. _Serves them right._ He thinks to himself.

He shoves the door open with his shoulder and began to walk back to the house. It won't ever be home again, it's too empty and dull at the moment but Samuel has ideas for it. To make it worth the little bright spot Elizabeth is.

It's been two weeks since the funeral and Samuel hasn't once stopped searching for a job.

His parents had a bit of money saved up, it could probably last them a few years if he used it sparingly for little anything outside of necessities.

But, he is also aware that Elizabeth needs toys, new clothes and nutritious food.

He needs a job for that.

What does most jobs need? Smarts. Experience.

If a job requires intelligence, then he'll get smart dammit. He was always told he could be quite smart when he put his mind to it. Before, it wasn't needed. Now, he needs it.

He will become the smartest person he can be. Then, hopefully people will give him a job.

After that, well. Samuel's really isn't sure. All he really knows is that he will try his best to make Lizzy happy.

He opens the front door, shoulder-checking it as he enters with a heavy sigh and drops the keys into the little side dish on the table.

"Brother!" Liz cries, throwing her arms around him and squeezing tightly. Samuel returns her hug, somehow feeling even more exhausted.

"Hey," he whispers into the still empty-dull-dead house. "I'm home."

Liz grins up at him, full of teeth and gleeful. He smiles back, tension he didnt know about draining from his body.

"Welcome home!"

This…

This is _home_.


End file.
